


I Will Be Waiting

by GhostlyDear



Category: No Fandom
Genre: I Don't Even Know, My First AO3 Post, Plot Twists, Random & Short, Sad and Beautiful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-17
Updated: 2015-09-17
Packaged: 2018-04-21 06:25:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4818509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostlyDear/pseuds/GhostlyDear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a very short story that I thought would be decent to show for my first post. Hope you enjoy! (P.S. sorry for any grammar errors or if it sucks. No hate please.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Will Be Waiting

The old house, with its wildly overgrown garden, was silent, secretive. Something everyone marveled at from a distance but never seemed to bother getting closer. This house is my home, yet it remains silent as if it is abandoned. I drift through the halls day in and day out hoping that one day I’ll be able to step outside. Today wasn’t that day.

I yearned to go out into the garden like old times. Smell the sweet roses and watch as the bees buzzed to different flowers. To feel the warmth of the sun radiating down on my skin, and the freshly cut grass on my bare feet. I would love to hear my family laughing along as we watched old home movies, and delving into my cooking that seemed to put smiles on even the most unhappy person. Now all of those laughs and smiles are gone. Not to be seen again for a long while, or maybe never depending on fate.

The war I fought inside was a silent one. My mind pushing me to go outside and be happy, but my body keeps me locked up like some caged animal. I couldn’t leave if I tried. Not if I broke down the doors and shattered the windows. I was stuck inside screaming and crying silent, pained tears.

Even now the silence seems to bring the salty liquid to my eyes. There is no one around. No one to hear my tortured sobs and my begging pleas to be set free. Then, when I finally grow silent, I cannot help but accept my fate. The fate that binds me into silence until It is my turn.

Sometimes I sit in the hallway admiring the old, worn wood and faded curtains. My empty eyes falling over the dust covered upholstery and wooden tables. I have a long time to wait and it seems like I’ll be waiting for eternity. No matter how many times I beg and cry it will never seems to happen. I’m not gaining sympathy from my pain. It is a cold feeling like a shadow constantly standing over my being. A monster tugging at my ankles and arms as I try to move about through the empty halls.

Those feelings fade from time to time. When the sun shines bright into the windows and falls over my form. Or when the wind blows through the upstairs hallway and seems to whisper in my ear. It tells me everything will be alright. That I will be free soon enough, and that I just have to patiently wait my turn. I must wait in this old house with a wild, overgrown garden and plenty of secrets to tell. I must wait in my prison, my home, and my grave. I will be waiting for those flowers and the warmth of the sun. I will be waiting to see my family again. I will be here waiting to be free.


End file.
